Third Book in the Murder by the Sea series. .A rose sunrise, an azure sea at twilight, a lazy day fishing. It sounds like paradise. But just because Carrie lives on an island where life's pace is a little slower, doesn't mean that the age old struggles between right and wrong or good an bad don't exist. Sometimes the lines are blurred. Sometimes things are justified. But sometimes the evil is so blatant it can't be ignored
Thallasophile - lover of the ocean.
That's me. I have a strong affinity for that entity and express those feelings through my writing--my books. They may span many genres but are all connected to the place I call home.
Genres published: historical fiction, literary, murder, essays--they all are set on Topsail Island where I grew up. It is my way of perserving this wonderful place and the people with whom I share my life.
The first book in the Murder by the Sea series is WATERLOGGED. Don Belkin is a former Marine, now a detective with the Surf City Police Dept. He's a conflicted man, to say the least, as he struggles to accept his past and find solace in the small beach town. Bitterness runs deep between the locals who have populated the area for generations and the "new" folks who think they've found paradise. Oh, Topsail Island may be the perfect tourist attraction, but in the summer it's just plain MURDER. (there are 5 more books in the series)
He's conflicted, doesn't know which way to go. But one thing is for certain, Don has her on his mind. Her fingers have grasped onto his soul and won't let go.
Damn his weakness, He knows as soon as he has her, and he will, that he will hate himself.
Breathing a heavy sigh, Don looked toward the dune where Hank’s beach access would be. The shining lights from the house illuminated part of the porch and gravel driveway below. He watched a figure cross the large plate glass window--Estelle. She wore only a tee shirt covering her torso, her long legs, bare and strong strode across the room. Moving to the window she pressed her body against it—her limbs spread askew, her breasts pushed against the glass. Her head tilted back, the thick long hair cascading past her shoulders. Don watched as her fists beat the thick hurricane glass of the window, her mouth open in laughter. And then he saw her look his way, her eyes steeled, seeming to look straight at him. He ducked low into a dune. “No way she knows I’m here.”